#ddcclosed

[inuit-boy-blog]

Kenai & Kissing || Closed

Kenai had to ask many people to explain what the auction at the masquerade was, not necessarily because he didn’t understand the rules, but the concept as a whole. 

They were going to exchange money? For kisses? Kisses from people that they knew on the train? Sure they’d be wearing masks but he’d already shown a good 100% of the five friends he had what his mask looked like, and he was almost completely certain those that hadn’t seen the mask could still tell who he was by his hair. 

Maybe he could shave his hair!

No. Never. He shook the thought out of his brain and made sure that while he did he thanked his hair for shaking with it. He couldn’t cut the hair. So what, they’d all bid on kisses, with money they were supposed to get from somewhere, and then go up to the person and just...do it?  God this sounded complicated. 

But he signed up for it anyway, because he wanted a kiss from a girl. And a boy. And another girl and another boy, and maybe if one of them kissed him he could finally decide what he wanted or who he wanted or maybe he’d move to Alaska again. 

Maybe he could shave his hair!

What? No. Can’t do that, he’d already decided. Now he’d signed up for the damn thing already, but that was only half of it. When he wasn’t being bid on, other people were being bid on! Other people like the girl and the boy and the other girl and the other boy. Which meant he needed money, money that he didn’t have. He didn’t dare ask Scar for a raise, and after a few days of checking his backpack as if extra cash might suddenly appear, he decided he’d have to do something about it. 

Finding a pawn shop wasn’t difficult. Maybe it had something to do with being a carnie, drawn to the darker shops of city streets than other people. Sure, he hadn’t been a part of the circus long, but it soaks into the blood fairly quick. So, on the Tuesday morning before the Masquerade, some poor bloke manning the shop with a hell of a hangover and no patience for the normal teenage boys coming in with their mom’s stolen fake jewels had the surprise of his life, when a tall long haired man walked up to the front desk and laid down two genuine pristine fur coats, before saying only,

“I need to kiss.”

[blessedby-puberty]

Morning After || Closed

Hiccup slowly opened his eyes, and the realization hit him. His head was throbbing, a pain he hadn't felt ever. "Oh gods." He mumbled, lifting the blankets over his head. The sun is what woke him up, and once he opened his eyes he was blinded. But now that he was safe under his covers, he could slowly start to think. His head was throbbing, his mouth felt like he had swallowed millions of cotton balls, and he was feeling nauseous. All of this was foreign territory to him. He wasn't sure how to managed to get back into his car...And the more he thought about it, the more he didn't remember.

"Get it together Hiccup..." He whispered to himself, trying to place last nights events in order. He remembered fiddling around with his sweater, trying to get the wiring right, and being overcome with joy when he did so. He remembered making his way to where the party was being held, his palms were sweating and he was nervous. He remembered a fight almost breaking out between two young men, who eventually seemed to be..Friends? 

But..That was it. "No, no, no..." He mumbled. Even the sound of his own harsh whispers pounded against the walls in his head. He was beginning to panic. What did he do last night? Did he make a fool of himself? Did he..Did he get taken advantage of? Millions of horrifying scenarios ran through his head, and he could just feel himself shrinking further and further under the covers. 

He couldn't even remember any of the other partygoer's names..Except Robin. That was the only one. Part of him wanted to find the man, and question him about the events of the night..But another part of him never, ever wanted to leave his bed. 

Hiccup rolled over on his side, and instantly decided that was a horrible idea. His stomach twisted and turned, and he felt like he was going to die. He reached his arm up to cup his pillow, and felt something sticky. That only made his stomach lurch more.

The only way to calm his stomach was to lay flat on his back. So now that he figured out how to calm his body, he reached back up for the sticky object. It was hard, and almost felt like a weird metal. Hiccup pulled the item underneath his pillow, and opened his eyes slightly. They shot open though, when he realized what he had grabbed. 

It was his leg. More panic ran through his body. Why was it sticky? "Ooh..." Hiccup moaned, his free hand rubbing his face. 

Everything was confusing. Nothing made sense. Hiccup felt as if he were dying, and his leg was extremely sticky. "I'm going to just die. That's it. I'm going to die a very lonely death in my bed." He mumbled, throwing the leg off the bed. He grabbed the edges of his blankets, and tucked himself into some sort of Hiccup cocoon. 

Three things had become very clear to him. One, he was never, ever going to drink again. Two, he was never, ever, going to be social again. And three, he was never, ever, leaving his bed. 

[found-a-penny]

"I will not run away." | CLOSED

Penny sat on her bed, her hands tremoring as her eyes stared blankly as the piece of paper her hands were gripping so tightly. She had no need to read it anymore, she had scanned it over and over for the last hour, her brain not managing to wrap itself around the concept. 

"Each district will provide two sacrifices." 

Penny's scream echoed the room.

As she stopped yelling, her breath returned. Sharp, and ragged sobs taking over her body, shaking her painfully. 

"I could run away," Penny thought, frantically looking around her room as if searching for an escape door. Her mind flashed backwards to life before the carnival, to the nights she spent as a child fleeing the torment of her kidnapper, night after night grasping at her bear as she sprinted through the dark, trying to escape the hell she was living in.

The young girl rubbed her hands over her face roughly, pulling at the roots of her hair as she inhaled deeply, trying to calm herself. Unconsciously she reached across her bed for her teddy bear, and began rubbing it's ear between her thumb and index finger, a habit that had resulted in so much wear that the ear had been stripped of it's dye, and needed resewing on an annual basis. 

Penny looked around her room, desperately trying to find some sort of answer in the wooden panels. All she found were pictures, and drawings, further proof of her crisis. 

Penny always ran away from a child, trying to find home. Finally achieving her dream, she found just that within the walls of her train cart. How could she run away from the only home she'd ever known? What else was out there to find?  When she had first arrived at the carnival as a child, she had painted it to be some sort of fairy land, with a moving rickety castle, with magic fairies who flew in the sky, and dragons who could breathe fire. 

It was in that moment of reminiscing that she came to the harsh realization; she was more afraid of leaving this place than going to battle. This proposal didn't terrify her half as much as the world outside the circus. She couldn't run away. Even though her home had turned into a battleground. 

Penny would go. She would fight. She would win. 

And if she didn't win? To die would be an awfully big adventure. 

[itstherightalice]

Phoning Home || Closed

Alice had made sure that no-one had seen her walk off to the edge of the carnival lot. What she was about to do had been playing on her mind ever since she joined the carnival and, now she had finally conjured up the nerve to be able to do it, she didn’t want any disturbances.

  She wasn’t sure what had made her decide to finally call her sister. She assumed it was the fact that she had been in a bit of an irritable mood, being unable to sleep and snapping at those few people she didn’t automatically get on with. She wasn’t being Alice recently, and she had presumed that this was the cause. So she had decided that once she got what was stressing her out of the way, everything would be okay again.  Plus, it was common decency. Charlotte had raised her for just over ten years and, although Alice hadn’t left on the best of terms with Charlotte, she had been like a second mother.

  She sat down in the shade, still not entirely accustomed to the Texas heat, and pulled out her phone. It was one of the first things she got when she landed in America, having thrown away her phone before she left. She didn’t fully know why she had done that, guessing it was partly to do with her desire to start her adventure afresh. So why was Charlotte’s number the first I added? Alice asked herself as she flicked through the contacts – not that there were many – to “Sister-Charlotte”.

  She hesitated for a bit, debating once more whether to call the number. She knew, if Charlotte picked up, she’d be mad. But she needed to stop hiding and just let her know. So, taking a deep breath, she pressed the ‘call’ button and waited.

  One ring, two rings… three… four… Charlotte wasn’t picking up. Alice wondered if it was something to do with the time difference. Probably – she hadn’t bothered to figure out what time it would be back in London. The logical assumption was that Charlotte was teaching, as she’d have her phone off, or that perhaps she wasn’t going to answer to an American number. After all, she knew no-one over here.

  It ended up going to voicemail. Alice even teared up slightly at the message- “Charlotte Liddell. Can’t get the phone right now, please leave a message.” She didn’t realise how much she missed her sister’s voice. It was strange to think she actually longed to hear the business-like tone again, wanting things to be done as efficiently as she would do it. Then came the beep… time for Alice to leave her message.

  “Charlotte… um, hi,” she began. “It’s me… Alice. Don’t – please don’t be mad. I just wanted to, uh, let you know that I’m… okay. I’m okay. I’ve got everything covered – a place to stay, food, I’ve even got a job. And, although I don’t think I’m coming back soon, I just wanted to let you know that I’m sorry. And I love you, no matter what I may have said, I will always love you. So, um, I’ve got to go now and I can’t exactly give you an address, but I won’t get rid of this phone. Please, just – just call me when you get this, okay? Even if it’s just to yell at me – just call.”

[itstherightalice]

Photographs|| Closed

Alice sat in her car, relieved to be on her own for a bit. She loved hanging around with everyone, especially Sulley or Kronk - they were pretty cool guys - but right now she just needed to sit and think. She knew she was going to have to call her sister sometime, she just didn't know when would be best, or what to say.

 Frustrated, she flopped back on her bed. That's when she caught it - the little white corner of an old Polaroid photograph sticking out of one of her books. She hadn't read the book in ages - it was too full of words, no pictures at all - but it was one of her mother's books. She never realised the photo was in there.

 She reached over and opened the book gingerly, as if it could burn her. It was one of the few things she had to remind her of her parents - thankfully kept at her grandparents' house at the time, so it avoided being turned to ash in the fire. Alice felt a tear slowly running down her cheek as she opened it to the first page. Property of Lorina Reeve, it read in beautifully neat handwriting. 

 Alice huddled up as she flicked through the book, taking in the smell of the pages until she reached the one where the photograph was the bookmark. When she found it, she took it out. It was one of those ones which had printed the minute it was taken - the ones where you had to shake it and wait for the picture to develop. 

 When she saw what the picture was, she smiled weakly. It was Charlotte, about eleven or twelve years old, holding a baby Alice whilst both her mum and her dad surrounded them. It must have been taken not long after she was born, Alice reckoned, possibly taken by a family member, seeing as the background was the old house. The one Alice still called home, even though it had been reduced to cinders ten years before.

 She couldn't believe that it had been carried around with her for this long without her realising. It was amazing how these things could turn up. Almost like fate, except Alice knew that wasn't completely true. The idea of some outside force seemed... illogical. But what she did know was that it turned up just at the right time, reminding her that no matter what it seemed like, she and Charlotte would always be this close.

 She stared at the photo for a little while longer, letting herself relive the memories she had, and recounting the things Charlotte used to tell her when Alice had nightmares about the fire. She took out her notebook - the one with all her dad's stories in them - and placed the photo inside, knowing it would be safe with the rest of her memories.